High Noon at Noonan's
by PM124
Summary: Kara is taken hostage while buying coffee at Noonan's. Will Kara reveal herself in front of everyone to save the hostages? Can she without risking the lives of some of the hostages? This is a realistic portrayal of hardened criminals. Graphic language and graphic violence hence the M rating.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey Kara! Long time no see," John Watts, a barista at Noonan's, called out. "Where've you been?"

"I'm working different hours now. My new boss decided I would be an asset working afternoons so I don't usually come into work this early anymore," Kara explained as she dug in her purse for her wallet.

"One usual coming up?" John asked.

"Sure. Thanks. Hey, where is everyone today? I mean, this place is usually wall to wall around this time. Where's Jesse and Erin?"

"Don't tell me you haven't heard. About the park fundraiser?" John asked. "Noonan's is sponsoring A Day in the Park benefit to raise money for athletic gear for underprivileged kids. Most of the staff, as well as our customers are there today. It runs until four if you want to check it out. There's just me, Mandy, Danine, and Scott here until then. Like I said, most of our regulars are at the park."

Kara looked around at the almost empty establishment. Aside from a man and woman seated in a booth by the door, she was the only customer.

"I'll try to sneak out of work to check –"

"NO ONE MOVE!" A male voice cut Kara off. She started to turn her head and glimpsed three armed men. One grabbed the woman near the door and put his gun to her head. "I SAID, NO ONE MOVE OR THIS BITCH GETS IT AND HER BOYFRIEND'S NEXT."

Aside from the air conditioner, the restaurant was quiet.

"Good. Now everyone slowly lay on the floor. DON'T LOOK! JUST LAY ON YOUR BELLIES NOW!" another male voice ordered.

The whimper was heard again. The shuffling sound of people laying down and the room was quiet again. Kara still wasn't able to see what was going on. She didn't want to take the chance of angering whoever was making the other woman whimper.

"Hell, the cops are right on our tail!" a third male voice said. "Think we should waste them? I've got the ammo."

"No – they're too far away. Bet they're getting out the rifles. Let's get to the back," the first voice said. "Okay, listen up! Everyone belly crawl like a snake to the back. STAY ON YOUR STOMACHS! MOVE OR THIS BITCH GETS AN EXTRA HOLE IN HER EAR!"

Kara heard the woman whimper again. _I can't take the chance to do anything right now. I'll play along. Give the police some time to set up and work things out. I'll use my powers only if there's no other way to avoid bloodshed._ Kara crawled, with everyone else, into the kitchen.

"Good. Glad you people aren't as stupid as the last bunch I robbed. They got themselves shot. Stay on your bellies and put your arms straight out like you're a cross. Good. First person who tries to look at any of us gets a bullet in the brain. I ain't joking - ask this bitch. Well, bitch? Tell'em I'm not joking," the first voice demanded.

"He's …he's not joking. Please! I have two kids," the woman sobbed.

"I could give a flying fuck about you or your kids, bitch. If you want to stay alive all you have to do is – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" the first voice said as an impossibly loud gunshot sounded and the ceramic tile four inches from Kara's face exploded from the impact of a bullet. Little shards of tile peppered her face and cracked one of her glass lenses. "I SAID DON'T FUCKING MOVE. No more warning shots!"

Kara froze unwilling to provoke the gunmen into any more violence.

 _Rao, I can't get all three at one time even if I use my super powers. They're too far apart. These guys aren't amateurs and they aren't afraid to shoot. I'll have to think of some way to get them together if the police can't help_. _I can hear them setting up outside. Front and back doors. Oh, geez, they're evacuating the buildings around us. This is so not good. Who are these guys?_

"Munson, they approaching the door yet?" the first voice asked.

"No. Looks like these guys decided they didn't want to die today … at least right now. Good thing we moved to the back. Looks like they're ready to snipe through the windows at anything in the front," Munson added. "Probably setting up for a barricaded gunman scene, Oliver."

"Yeah, that's okay. There's three of us and seven hostages. That gives us four dispensable chips to bargain with before things get tight," the first voice, Oliver, said. "You heard me right, folks. All you are right now is bargaining chips. Nothing else. We ain't got nothing to lose and we ain't afraid of dying. We can all go on that one-way trip together for all I care. I suggest you all toe the line or it will be sooner rather than later."

The whirring air conditioner stopped and the lights went out. The kitchen was illuminated by emergency lights.

"You were right, Munson, they're playing the barricaded gunman routine. Turn off lights and power. You ready for the flash bang, Royce?"

"As ever. Don't think they'll use it this soon. They're gonna want to _talk_ to us first. You know, show us the error of our ways," Royce answered.

Kara, her glasses already on the tip of her nose from the belly crawl into the kitchen, checked through the wall she was facing. Unfortunately it was a now empty Alyssa's Pastry Treats. Two more evacuated stores were attached then the street. She didn't see any police officers or traffic on the street.

 _The police must have shut down the streets around here. I don't want to move my head to check out anything else in case Oliver decides to shoot that woman. I'll have to listen and take my chance when it comes – even if that reveals my identity._

Fifteen long minutes later Kara heard the business phone ring.

"You wanna pick it up, Oliver? I can take your girlfriend," Munson offered.

"Nah, cops love it when girls cry into the phone. Gets their he-man instincts all up," Oliver retorted as he picked up the phone.

Kara listened as the police negotiator started the conversation. _At least she knows who she's dealing with._ It seemed the negotiator was under no illusions the criminals holed up in Noonan's were scared first timers.

"Arrgh!" a pain filled voice on Kara's blind side called out.

"Stomp on his hand once more," Oliver ordered. "Make sure it's broken."

"AArrrgh!"

"Did you hear that? That's only one hand of one of the hostages. Plenty more body parts to mash up in here - there's even kitchen knives for us to use too. Do you really want to play the waiting game with us? We want your tactical tank, full of gas, and a plane with pilot waiting at National City Airport. You have a half hour to set it up." Oliver put the receiver back in the cradle and turned to the hostages, "You'd better hope those cops decide your lives are worth sparing and that they want you all in one piece … it wouldn't be Royce's first time dismembering someone."

 _Okay, that is so not going to happen. If these guys try that, I'll have to try and stop them. I hope I can do it before they shoot someone else. If they weren't spread so far apart. They know what they're doing, that's for sure. Odd – Oliver didn't even ask for money. He just wants a way out of here._

A pain filled voice, John's, interrupted her thoughts.

"You guys wait. When Supergirl shows up she'll save us. You guys won't stand a chance."

"Break his other hand, Royce," Oliver ordered.

"No!" Kara called out from her prone position. "Please don't."

"AArrgh" John's cry of pain reverberated off the walls.

"You want her done next, Oliver?" Royce asked clearly excited about the chance to hurt someone else.

"Nah. We'll save the bitches till later. If we don't get what we want."

"What about what that guy said about Supergirl?" Munson asked.

"What? You're worried about some bitch? Really? What a laugh. A real man knows how to handle a woman in a skirt," Oliver boasted. Then he grinned and walked back over to the kitchen phone and picked it up. Sure enough he was right and it was a direct line to the police negotiator. "Hey, I've got one other demand and we don't leave until she shows up. You ready? I want Supergirl here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to those of you who posted reviews. I really appreciate them. This story is not meant for youngsters as there is graphic violence, language, and realistic depictions of criminal behavior. This story was written as a request from Timberwolf73 on AOL who asked for a fic with Kara taken hostage and faced with the possibility of revealing her secret identity. Supergirl is owned by Warner Bros. and DC Comics ...I own nothing but the hostages and bad guys. Hope you enjoy!**

Oliver Denning was not a nice man. At forty-eight years old, he spent well over half his life in prison serving one of thirteen life sentences. He had many more murders under his belt, both in and out of prison. He wasn't the product of a poor neighborhood, bad parents, or an unhappy childhood. Oliver Denning just didn't care. When he wanted something he took it, whether it was a cigarette or someone's life. He didn't care about consequences and, in prison, he didn't have to. There was always someone lower on the totem pole who would gladly take the fall for something he did. If they didn't, they died an unpleasant brutal death. He spent his years in prison lifting weights until he was solid muscle, honing his fighting skills, figuring out how to make the system work for him. Oliver didn't waste time watching television or reading up on current events. He hadn't for the past twenty-five years. Why should he? He had no chance of parole. His life was on the inside therefore his mind focused only there.

"I don't _care_ if you don't have a direct line to Supergirl. Ask this bitch if I care!"

Kara heard the impact of a fist striking flesh and a woman's cry of pain. _Damn it! I can't see where these guys are and if I move Oliver might shoot the woman._

"That's right. It's time you figure out a way of contacting Supergirl. I don't care how you do it. Just let her know there's a real man in town waiting to lift her skirt. Yes, you still have … let's see, about twenty-five minutes left. Guess you better get busy then."

Kara heard Oliver hang up the phone and the sound of his hostage slammed to the ground.

"You did real good there, bitch, but I don't like damaged goods." The woman cried out as she made contact with the greasy tiled floor. "You put your arms out like everyone else. That's a good bitch."

"Who is this Supergirl anyways?" Royce asked from another part of the kitchen.

"I dunno. Probably some karate expert who thinks she's hot shit," Oliver retorted.

"Hah! Guess you were right, Munson, National City is full of weirdos," Royce said from a slightly different location.

 _These guys keep moving around. I can hear one of them moving with a hostage. The other two don't have a hostage. Maybe now is the –_

John's cry of anguish filled the air.

"Yeah, _you_ , big mouth. Get up before I take your sissy ponytail and mop the floor with it," Oliver threatened. "You look like a bitch. Now you're gonna be his bitch."

Kara heard some scuffling and more whimpers of pain from John.

"You better be good, mother fucker," Royce advised. "You have a lot of little teeny weeny small bones in your feet. I bet I could mash them so you'd never walk again. Actually, I _like_ the pony tail. So I can do this!"

Kara heard John's cry and then several gasps for breath. _Oh Rao, I have to help him. Maybe if I can get them to focus on me. If one of these guys takes me as a hostage, then at least I'll be able to see what's going on. I'll say something to –_

"No. Please, leave me be!" Danine's scared voice cut off in a shriek of pain.

"You have _one_ chance to save your life. Understand?" Kara heard Oliver's loud whisper into Danine's ear. "The second you decide you don't want to live anymore - you open your mouth without me specifically telling you to. I _own_ you – I own all you mother fuckers!"

Kara listened intently gauging where Royce, Oliver, and Munson were by the slight scuffling movements. _They have to be deliberately staying away from each other. I don't think a police negotiator is going to be able to help us._

As if on cue the telephone rang. Kara heard more scuffling noises then Oliver picked up the receiver. _Okay, he's there, about thirteen feet behind me. Royce is –_

"I don't care if the plane and tactical tank are ready. I _told_ you I wanted Supergirl, too. Royce! Show your friend how to dance!"

Kara heard a loud stomping noise followed immediately by John's piercing cry of pain. _No, no, no!_

"Keep standing, mother fucker, or I will put a bullet in your spine to make sure you go down for the count," Kara heard Royce say.

"You hear that police bitch? We ain't playing around! Get that through your head!" Oliver must have done something to Danine who suddenly cried out in pain. "Let's see, you've wasted fifteen minutes. That leaves - let me get this right - another fifteen minutes before people start dying in here. We ain't afraid of your tactical teams. The hostages will be long dead before we are so the choice is yours. Do what I told you to do or kiss their asses goodbye. Done talking to you."

Kara heard the phone slam into the cradle. Danine whimpered again and more scuffling ensued.

Aside from John's labored breaths and occasional moaning the kitchen was quiet. Kara heard the police discussing their abductors and possible options. As she learned more about the criminals, she was convinced she had no choice to reveal herself as Supergirl. Even so, there was no way she could save all of the hostages. Innocent people were going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

 _This sucks! I'm right here and even if I was to admit I was Supergirl these losers they wouldn't believe me. I could show them exactly what Supergirl can do but not without them hurting the other people. If I act fast enough maybe only two or three get killed. Damn it! Do I have the right to make that decision for them? I can't even ask anyone for advice. Rao, I wish I could ask Cat what she thought. Get some guidance. Actually, that's not a bad idea … Cat … Cat would tell me to think of a better plan. One that doesn't involve risking other people's lives. I'm supposed to be the hero …_

"Whaddaya say we chop this one's hand off and throw it out the door," Munson said. "We're at the twenty-five-minute mark now. Five more minutes and he won't need his arm anymore anyway."

"Yeah, go ahead," Oliver agreed. 'Might as well."

"NO!" Kara called out firmly still laying on the floor. "Oliver Denning, Jack Munson, Bob Royce."

The room grew quiet again.

 _Rao! Please let this work! Please!_

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" Oliver's voice came from directly behind her.

"Your best chance at getting out of here."

"You some kind of cop?" Oliver's voice came from a different area this time.

"Waste her now!" Royce demanded.

"I'm not a cop! I'm a reporter – for the National City Tribune. I was going to Gotham to cover your murder trial. You guys _are_ famous, you know," Kara added. _Not too much sap. Say it like Cat would. Channel Cat._

"Don't give me that _shit_. You're just stalling for time," Royce spat.

"I guess knowing all of your names and the fact that you were on your way to Gotham to stand trial for murder is some cosmic coincidence. Oh, and that Supergirl you guys are so hot to meet? She's already on a plane bound for Gotham. She was supposed to be assisting with courtroom security. Guess she should have stuck around National City longer," Kara let some Cat Grant snark enter her voice. _Please let this work! Let the rest of the hostages be quiet._

Kara heard a shuffle noise before a foot connected with her side. She relaxed into the blow. Allowed her body to move with the foot. She exhaled a small cry as though the blow actually hurt. _Come on! Take the bait!_

"She's a distraction. Let's kill her first," Munson said.

"Kill me right now and you've thrown away your best bargaining chip," Kara quickly said letting pretend pain seep into her voice. "I am your best chance at getting out of here. Your ace in the hole, so to speak. The police _know_ me. They _like_ me. They _don't_ want to see me hurt. I'm worth all the rest of your hostages combined."

"How do you know about Supergirl already being on a plane?" Oliver demanded.

"I told you. You guys are famous. I've talked to her about the case. She says you guys didn't really kill that family all those years ago. It's just a scam cooked up to give you the opportunity to break out of prison. She left early in the morning so she could prepare for your arrival."

 _Please, believe me. Listen to me._

"If the cops know she's on a plane why didn't they say so, _BITCH?"_

Kara softened her body around another kick to her blind side and let out a groan.

"Do you know who Supergirl is?" Kara asked channeling Cat's sarcastic voice. "She doesn't answer to the police. She's a highly trained government operative."

 _Rao, I hope what those cops were saying is right and these guys are ignorant of current events – of the outside world. No one mentioned Supergirl as an alien so maybe the cops outside are right. Please, don't let any of the hostages say anything. This has to work!_

"So the cops like you?" Munson sounded like he was almost next to her.

"Yeah."

There was silence and a few slight whooshing noises. Kara furrowed her brow as she tried to figure out what the men were doing.

 _Sign language. They're communicating using some kind of sign language. Crap, I don't know what to say now. Have to say something – can't let them think too long._

"Like I said, I _am_ your best bet for getting out of here. If you kill me first, you'll lose your window of opportunity. With me as a shield, you won't have a problem getting to that tactical tank without being picked off by a police sniper. It's your choice. You can still get out of this mess. Get to the stash Royce hid after his last bank robbery. What was it? Close to four million, Bob? It's either that or we're all gonna die here in about four or five minutes. Think! You guys didn't concoct this whole scheme to break out of prison, grab the money, and head to South America just to die in some stupid coffee shop."

 _Come on! Listen to your survival instincts!_

"She knows too much. She's gotta be a cop!" Munson's agitated voice came from about twenty feet away.

"NO! Check my purse. My work ID is in there. I'm a _reporter._ It's my job to know the background of the people I'm supposed to interview. Your lawyers _did_ tell you, right? About the interviews?"

"She's fucking with us. Playing some kind of head game!" Munson said.

"To what end?" _Come on, Kara, be convincing._ "I know either way, I'm dying today. Whether it's here or somewhere along the way to South America I'm gonna be dead. I've studied your backgrounds, remember? Your choice is whether you're dying here or living in South America."

There was another heavy sound of flesh on flesh and a man's cry filled the kitchen.

"NOT IF YOU HURT ANYONE ELSE! I won't help you if you hurt anyone else!" _Please, Please, Please! Listen to me! Be selfish and want to live!_

"You're in no fucking position to make _any_ demands, BITCH!"

Another sound of flesh on flesh and a woman's voice, possibly Mandy's, cried out.

Kara closed her eyes.

 _Please let this work! It has to work!_

In a matter of fact tone she said, "Then I guess we're all gonna die today."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack Munson grew up in one of the toughest neighborhoods of Gotham. He wasn't sure which, of the many men his mother slept with, was his father. His mother sure as hell didn't know or care. He was another mouth to feed – an uninvited and not a particularly wanted guest in her life. At least she didn't have to worry about him getting in trouble at school. He refused to go and she agreed with his decision. It was too much trouble to wake up at seven in the morning anyway. As he grew older he hung around some of the men his mother brought to the filthy apartment they shared. They used him to make illegal runs for dope knowing, if he got caught, he would get a slap on the wrist and sent back out to the streets. By the time Jack was eighteen, his mother dead five years earlier due to a heroin overdose, he was first lieutenant in the notorious Five Mile Posse gang with eight executions to his credit. Most likely he would have died before his nineteenth birthday except he made the mistake of killing a well-connected dealer who shorted him cash. The police actually investigated the homicide seriously and Munson was sentenced to life with no parole. His real education began two years later when Oliver Denning was assigned to his cell block.

"You think so? Bitch!" Munson was still close.

Kara weathered another kick to her blind side. _Come on! Get smart … take the out!_

"So you think you're so fucking important the cops will let us waltz right out?" Oliver said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"I didn't say that!" Kara quickly replied keeping her voice weak. "I said they're less likely to shoot if it's me as a hostage when you go out. Let them know I'm in here … it might stop the police from coming in and killing you."

Kara heard the handset leave its cradle.

"Yeah, police bitch. Got someone in here who says she's real important to you so you may want to keep your bitch boys from coming in and getting her killed. No, you don't need to know her name. All you need to do is get that tactical tank ready. I want it parked four feet from the front door. Hope it's got plenty of space because anyone we don't kill in here is coming with us!"

 _NO! You can't do that. Take me – just me! Don't kill anyone._

"That's going to go over well with the negotiator's bosses. You sounded desperate. Why didn't you tell them my _name_? Now they think you're bluffing and they'll come in, anyways."

"You need to stop thinking you've got some kind of control here!" Munson yelled and Kara heard, yes it was definitely Mandy, cry out. "Shut the fuck up!"

 _This is not working. The cops are going to come in and it will be a massacre. Think Kara! What would Cat do? Change tactics. Lead them to where you want them to go …._

"Okay. I'm sorry. I was wrong. You're the ones who are in charge."

Silence.

 _Good – no one getting hurt. Keep talking Kara._

"Obviously you guys have dealt with the cops more than me. You know what you're doing – how to handle them. What to say. You guys planned this out carefully. Something went wrong and you ended up stuck in here with us and a whole lot of cops outside. You've dealt with the authorities long enough to know how they think. You'll come up with a way of getting out of here."

More silence.

 _So far so good. Keep them confident that this will work – they'll be less likely to hurt the hostages. From what the cops said, these guys ran the prison. They'll want their cohorts to know they were smart enough to escape._

"But those guys you three left behind – McCormick, Porter, Restum and Barnes? They won't hear a thing about your escape. The warden clamps down on anything that makes him look bad. You know that. It's how the system works. There won't be one word about your escape. They'll lie to your friends and say you've been sent to another super max prison across the country or that you were shot and killed trying to escape. That your plan failed."

 _Good. Let that sink in for a second. Engage their egos. The angrier they are at some perceived slight the less their likely to think things through._

"Using my name can help you with that."

"Oh, you think you're so important? Like you're the President of the fucking United States or something?" Royce was about fourteen feet away.

"No, I didn't say that."

 _Come on, Kara. Lead them to where you want them to go. Make them want to release your name._

"I'm well known. Connected. All the news media will cover this story. I'm one of _them._ It won't be buried on the back page of some newspaper. It'll be front and center on every newscast, every newspaper. It'll be impossible for the warden to contain the news that you guys did it. Escaped."

"Listen, bitch, you're _nothing_. All you do is _write_ about things. Your name doesn't mean shit!" Munson had moved away from her again.

 _He's about ten feet behind me … to my left. Close to the kitchen door. Probably keeping an eye out for the entry team. Maybe I can pull off a rescue if he's distracted enough. I don't think he has a hostage … Royce has John and Oliver is holding Danine. Someone's moving again._

"Yeah, police bitch? We got your famous reporter, Kara Danvers, in here. She's going to be the first to go – Royce will do her – if you don't do _exactly_ what I say. You know who we are so stop feeding us bullshit. You have two minutes to park that tank four feet from the door with the engine running," Oliver slammed down the receiver.

 _That's right. Take me as a hostage. Come on – grab me!_

"You!" Royce yelled.

Kara heard a muted blow then a man exhaled in pain.

"Get up! NOW!"

"Oka-"

"Did I say TALK? Motherfucker! One more sound from you and you lose a couple of fingers."

 _Damn it! Please, Rao. I have to figure something out that'll work. There's got –_

"You! Glasses!" Munson sounded like he was near Royce. "You wanna write about how it looks to see someone gutted? Maybe we should have you do the cutting? Then you'll know how it actually _feels_ to snuff out a life instead of writing about it. Royce, you wanna pass me over your cripple? He's useless now anyway – except as a message."

"Hold on," Oliver cut in. "I hear something – sounds like the tank. Royce – drop the cripple and take your new shield over to get a better look."

"Aaarrgh!" The sound of a body slapping onto the tile floor then John's labored breaths filled the kitchen.

The business phone rang. No one picked up.

"Classic police tactic. Trying to distract us. They think they're dealing with some stupid newbies. Fucking cops. Keep an eye on the doors – they're gonna try to get in."

Kara listened to the activity outside the building. The entry team was in position both near the front and back entrances. They were waiting for the green light from command.

 _Rao, this is going to be a bloodbath! I have to act now. No more time for talking! Wait, what? Pull back? That's a smart move. Thank you to whomever is in charge. They're moving the tactical tank away too. What have they got planned? Wait, did one of those guys in the command center say Grant?_

"… _the chief said to give that Danvers some more time._

 _Supposedly she's some bad ass reporter who might be able to_

 _dazzle these guys with her bullshit. I guess that's what Grant_

 _told the chief – something along those lines. Anyway, I agree_

 _about pulling back the troops. It's a stupid move to send them_

 _in this early but Lask always was a dumb ass. He_

 _wasn't going to be the first one through the door."_

 _Sounds like Cat bought me some time to keep trying to reach these guys. How did she know I was in here … unless … Winn must have been up in our special office listening in on secure police lines – getting the scoop on what was going on at Noonan's. Cat must have phoned Chief Thomas - convinced him to hold off on sending the tactical team. That was fast. Bet there was some sort of blackmail involved. Now I have to figure out a way to get us out of here. All of us. Crap – they don't know the entry teams pulled back. I don't want to say anything right now that could startle them into pulling a trigger. Wait until they say something – are a bit more relaxed. At least that stupid phone has stopped ringing. Okay, Kara, think … how are you going to reach them?_

Long minutes stretched on. The only sound in the kitchen were the labored breaths of the hostages, quiet moans of the wounded, and slight shuffling noises as the captors moved around with their shields.

"I think they've pulled back," Oliver said after about fifteen or twenty minutes.

"Yeah," Royce agreed sounding perplexed. "I thought for sure they were on their way in."

"They moved back because you told them who I was," Kara said softly. _Don't put yourself in a position of power over them. This has to seem like it's their plan._ "You were right. They probably were coming in until someone in command heard what you said. Heard who you had in here. Now they don't know what to do. You've got them confused."

"Shut the fuck up, Glasses," Oliver said, not quite as vehemently as before. Kara didn't hear any cries of pain from his shield. _That's a plus._

Several more minutes went by. Then Kara heard someone pick up the handset.

"No bullshit, why did you guys pull back? I'll know if you're lying, police bitch," Oliver said as Danine cried out in pain.

 _Rao, please, tell him the truth. Tell him it was because of me, please!_

Kara listened intently for the negotiator's answer.

"You said Kara Danvers was one of the hostages -"

The conversation ended as Oliver slammed the handset back into its cradle.

"Shit, Glasses, you were right!" Oliver sounded incredulous then his voice hardened. "I guess you were also right about what you said earlier about dying today too."

"Yeah, I know," Kara said quietly.

More shuffling noises.

"Keep an eye on that door, Munson. I don't trust those cops," Royce said. "You sure that's what that cop said on the phone? It doesn't make sense that they'd care that much for some _reporter._ She's gotta be a cop. Maybe she's wired."

"I'm not a cop. Really. My purse, the heritage blue Fossil … uh, dark blue leather shoulder bag … should be on the floor near the counter. Check it. My work ID card is clipped to it."

"Sure. We go out there and the cops blow our heads off. Nice try, Glasses," Royce spat out.

"I'll go out there. They won't shoot me," Kara said already knowing what the answer would be.

"Fuck no!" Royce didn't disappoint her.

"Send one of the bitches. This one'll do," Oliver said as Danine cried out in pain. "You go get that purse, bitch. Bring it back here. If you decide to run, I guarantee I'll drop you before you reach the door. Understand?"

"Yes," Danine's voice trembled.

"Go, bitch."

Kara heard the light footsteps cross the tiled floor and enter the front of the eatery.

 _I should try to stop these guys now while their attention's divided. I'm pretty sure Oliver is by the kitchen door; Royce was behind me – about fifteen feet to my right. Where is Munson? Crap – he's way over on the right. Damn it! These guys have us between them. I can't see if Royce and Munson are distracted or if they're waiting to shoot. Please, Danine! Don't try and make a run for the door. He will shoot you._

"I mean it bitch! I'll put a bullet in you if you even sneeze the wrong way. There's nothing I'd like more than to cap your ass in front of all of those cops so don't tempt me," Oliver warned. "That's a good bitch. Nice and slow. Walk back carefully. _Don't_ even think about it."

Kara heard Oliver grab both Danine and her purse. Then she heard the contents of the purse scatter as Oliver dumped her purse out.

"No gun. No badge. This thing says she works for Catco. What the hell is Catco? Doesn't sound like the name of any newspaper to me." Oliver said as he went through her wallet.

"It's the name of a media conglomerate. We're right next to their headquarters. My press pass should be in my purse too." _Probably not, though, sounds like everything's on the floor._

"Yeah – I see it. Damn, Glasses, you only got eight bucks in here. Well, _had_ , eight bucks anyway," Oliver said as he stuffed the bills into his pocket. "Okay, that's settled, Royce. She ain't a cop. Now we're gonna find out how valuable she really is."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to everyone reading. Appreciate the comments also! Bad Language, bad situations, and tough choices. Told from Kara's point of view ... the kitchen floor of Noonan's.**

Bob Royce, _never_ Bobby or Robert, was old. Too old to hold his own anymore with younger convicts. Lucky for him he befriended a con ten years younger than himself, Oliver Denning, years ago. Oliver needed some help with storing contraband and Royce was a master at hiding things. The money he robbed from the Henderson Bank, three million six hundred and fifty thousand dollars, was still stashed in an old army trunk buried outside Gotham. Royce planned on going back to it after he served his time but things didn't work out after he cut the nose off of a prison guard and discovering he _liked_ cutting people up. He was the most feared prisoner in his day – no one, guard or convict, wanted to be on his bad side. This was his only chance at getting to his stash. Even if he had to share it.

The kitchen phone rang. And continued to ring. Kara could hear the faint shuffling of feet. _They're using sign again to communicate. Crap. I wonder if I can move a little, try to get a glimpse of where they're at. If they're using sign they'll have to watch each other instead of the hostages, instead of me. Nice and slow, Kara._

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GLASSES?!" Munson yelled. "NO ONE GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO MOVE!"

"NO, Munson, not her! Shoot one of the others – the cripple," Royce suggested. "When the time comes, Glasses belongs to me."

"NO – PLEASE NO! I didn't mean to upset you! I'm getting cramped on the floor like this. It hurts where you kicked me. I won't move again. I'm sorry!" Kara listened intently for the movement of a gun hammer as John's whimpers of fear filled the air.

Danine cried out again as Oliver snarled, " _YOU_ _are not calling the shots, Glasses. Get that through your fucking head!"_

"She's gonna be trouble," Munson's voice was quiet and deadly. "I say we do her now. The cops have us pinned down anyway. We ain't goin' anywhere. This whole thing's a bust."

"NO," Royce sounded almost desperate. "We'll get out of here."

"Yes, yes we will," Oliver sounded thoughtful. "Glasses is going to make sure of it. You only listen when someone else gets hurt, Glasses. We can probably work with that. She seems to like the cripple – maybe they got a thing going on. Time to put that to the test."

A meaty thunk sound and John let out a shriek of pain followed by sobs.

"That's the sound of a knife cleaving through a finger," Royce said. "Clean through. Any preference for the next one, Glasses? Maybe I should just do the whole hand… _slowly._ "

The metallic smell of copper filled the air.

 _Rao, no! I'm so sorry, John. They're watching me like hawks. If I make one move they'll start shooting the hostages. Keep quiet, Kara._

Another meaty thunk accompanied John's cry.

"Piece by piece, Glasses," Royce taunted. "Like I'm gonna do you … but slower."

"So, what's your plan, Glasses," Oliver asked. "What's your brilliant plan to get us out of here so your boyfriend doesn't lose any more parts?"

"He's … he's not my boyfriend. He's just an employee here. I'm _sorry_ I moved. _Please_ don't hurt anyone else."

"Oh – look at that. You've finally figured out who's in charge. _Now_ , I asked you a question. What's your plan for getting us out of here? I'm sure you've thought of something," Oliver was moving with Danine again.

"I'm not asking this to make you mad," Kara prefaced then hurriedly went on, "where exactly do you need to go? I mean, are you headed straight for the border, or are you going to need to stop."

"You trying to make sure we kill everyone?" Oliver sneered. "We tell you everything so your _friends_ here tell the cops after we're gone? Damn, Glasses, here I thought you were concerned for their safety."

"I … you … you don't have to tell me exactly where or anything. I … I meant it like if you're … making stops along the way or going straight through. I heard you … before … ask the police for a plane too. That's why I'm asking… I mean, if you're going to make stops why not get a helicopter instead of a plane? The small ones can land almost anywhere - even in the street outside this building." _Emphasis smaller as better. I'll only have the pilot to worry about. Make sure you keep sounding weak and beaten. These guys don't like it when you sound confident and John's paying for it._

Silence – except for the damn phone still ringing and John's sobs.

 _Yeah, I bet none of you brilliant minds thought to get a chopper instead of a plane at the airport. Now to throw in another carrot._

"The company I work for … Catco. It … it has a helicopter. Equipped with a … a police radio. You … you guys, you guys can listen in on what the police are saying."

 _Keep stuttering. Time to act as horrified as you are – I'm so sorry, John. They're still quiet – bet Oliver's thinking it over. Seems like he's the one in charge. What are the police saying?_

"… _no, sir. They haven't picked up the phone since we told_

 _t_ _hem_ _why we didn't go in. We haven't heard any shots from_

 _i_ _nside the building except for the one shot heard by the_

 _responding officers about five minutes after they barricaded_

 _themselves in there. We still don't have an accurate count of_

 _the number of hostages. We're still reviewing Catco's exterior_

 _security footage to see how many customers went in. The_

 _man_ _ager said there were only four employees working because_

 _they had that fundraiser at the park. I think that reporter has_

 _a rapport with them somehow. They wouldn't have thrown out_

 _her name otherwise. And they did call back to find out why_

 _w_ _e didn't come in. That says something. I heard about what_

 _they did to the guys in the prisoner van transporting them to_

 _Gotham. If we haven't got any dead bodies yet that reporter's_

 _d_ _oing something right."  
_

" _Any demands yet?"_

" _None except the initial ones for the tactical unit, a plane, and_

 _to see Supergirl. Wish she'd get her ass – uh, butt – over here."_

" _Let this reporter keep working them. Keep the entry teams_

 _prepped to enter. Immediate entry if they start shooting the_

 _hostages."_

" _Yes, sir. Immediate entry if the hostages are getting shot."_

"Well, Glasses, you've finally come up with something useful," Oliver said at the same time another kick was delivered into her blind side.

"Aaahhh," Kara cried out. _Pretend it hurt. Sell it, Kara. That's right, ragged breaths. Let the bullies think they've hurt you._

"Fuck! I must have broken one of her ribs or hit part of the floor," Munson exclaimed. "I think my toes are broke. Cheap ass prison shoes."

"Take the shoes off of that one. He looks like his feet are pretty big," Oliver ordered.

"Okay, mother fucker, you stay _exactly_ where you are. One move and there'll be a hole where your dick was," Munson threatened.

Scuffling sounds for about a minute then the sound of a boot hitting flesh and a male voice crying out in pain.

"Yeah. These boot's will do. Thanks, mother fucker," Munson almost sounded happy.

"What's the name of that place you work for, Glasses?" Oliver asked. "You know how to fly one of those helicopters?"

"Catco… and … I don't, I don't know how to fly a helicopter … they've got a couple of pilots on staff. They're pretty good." _Keep the answers short, Kara. Like you're out of breath._

The kitchen phone stopped ringing.

"Yeah, police bitch, we're still here. No one's been totally dismembered … yet. Royce is getting a little antsy so I suggest you listen up. That company Danvers works for … Catco. They got helicopters. I want one of them. Totally fueled up – have them land in front of this place. You make sure the police radio's working on that chopper, _bitch_ , or one of the hostages will be leaping to the ground and going splat."

"Now I gotta figure out who gets to come with us and go skydiving. You're coming with us for sure, Glasses," Oliver said as soon as he hung up the phone.

 _Don't bother saying anything. He didn't ask you a question … let him think you've learned your lesson. Let him be the boss. I know Cat will come through with the chopper – if the police let her. Hope Leadford's the pilot. He's ex-military and he doesn't look too intimidating._

"We're gonna need all of them," Munson said. "Those snipers will pick us off on the way to the helicopter."

"Yeah," Royce agreed. "They can't land that helicopter too close to the doors. We can take everyone but the cripple. That gives us plenty of shielding and bargaining chips."

 _Keep still. Don't let them know how small the helicopter is. Let them find out for themselves. When the copter's on the ground. Then you can negotiate because they won't want to let it go. They're already psyching themselves up to leave – to beat the police. Bet Royce is thinking about how he's going to defend himself from the other two after he uncovers his money._

"Why you so quiet, Glasses? You were all talky before. Now you ain't got nothing to say? How come? You leading us into a trap?" Oliver's voice was hard.

 _Crap! Play the wounded card._

"You didn't … didn't ask me anything," Kara's voice was weak and breathy. She let her voice hitch a little, "If … if I say anything … without you asking … me or someone else gets …hurt. What … what do you want…me to say? You don't have … to worry about police snipers? … cause … cause you don't." _Throw in a few coughs. Let them wonder why I said that._

"Really, Glasses? You think we're fucking stupid?" Munson asked about fifteen feet from where he was standing a few seconds ago.

 _Can you guys just stay in one spot?_

"Wind …wind from the blades…it'll throw the bullets off. Snipers … can't shoot through that. The … police know that. They won't … risk it. Can't. Too many people …. in offices," Kara finished her sentence with another couple weak coughs. _Not too much – Oliver has a thing against damaged goods. Have to make sure he doesn't change his mind. Make sure he takes me._

The three convicts were silent.

 _Oliver's weighing what I said. The other two are clueless. Probably wondering why they didn't think of that. Oliver is trying to read me … that's why he's in charge. They rely on his judgment with people – I've got to be careful. I can't let anything ring false. One slip and this whole gamble is for nothing. People will die._


	5. Chapter 5

**Supergirl is owned by DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Season Two is looking _totally_ awesome! Thanks for reading. Reviews are** **appreciated.**

The Harding family, seven of them, were found butchered on the grounds of their six-acre estate a few miles west of Gotham City. The youngest, three-year-old Jesse, was never found. Many modern crime scene investigation protocols were still in their infancy. The crime scene integrity depended, as it still does, on the original responding officers. Unfortunately, the officers sent to investigate a neighbor's observation of newspapers piling up on the driveway and a bad smell, were fresh out of the police academy and eager to prove they were 'good' cops. The pair trampled over the scene, moving critical pieces of evidence, and inadvertently destroying other evidence in their quest to 'solve' the crime. By the time more experienced officer's arrived, the damage was done. The killers were never apprehended. The homicides, twenty-six years cold, were suddenly brought to the forefront when a trio of inmates, Denning, Royce, and Munson admitted to the slayings. Since all three were serving multiple life sentences, the Gotham District Attorney did not plan to prosecute them until a well-connected relative insisted. The convicts knew enough unpublished details about the crime to have either participated or knew someone with firsthand knowledge of the slaughter. It seemed easy enough to bring the convicts to Gotham, let them have their little circus, convict them on the Harding deaths and send them back to their hellhole.

"Ya know, glasses? You seem to know an awful lot about this police sniper stuff. Why's that?" Danine's cry punctuated his question.

"I … I told you. I worked the police beat. They … all – all the new reporters … have to do it. The boss says it … toughens us up," Kara kept her breathing shallow. " _Please,_ …please. I got to know some … of the cops doing the tactical stuff. The one guy was … trying to impress me about how hard it was to … to be a sniper."

 _That's enough. Let him come to his own conclusions now. He'll tip the wrong way if you say too much. Come on, Oliver. You know what I said makes sense._

"Well, without the glasses … yeah, she could be cute enough for a cop to wag his dick at," Munson mused. "You got a nice ass, Glasses."

"Business first," Oliver snapped. "So, how many of us can fit inside that helicopter?"

"It's small you … you know. So it can land easier. I didn't get to see … how big you guys are …but it should fit you guys with maybe room for … a hostage."

Kara heard the close scuffling and let her body react as someone kicked her twice in quick succession.

"Just one fucking hostage? _Really_? You stupid –"

Munson was interrupted by Oliver, "No. We'll have two. The pilot and her. That's all we'll need. The pilot's gotta be some kind of cop. Ain't no way they'd let a civilian fly that copter. That means we got _two_ bargaining chips the cops care about. Royce, take a couple of those kitchen knives. If the pilot gives us any trouble, we'll start carving up Glasses."

"Take your bitch shield too," Munson insisted. "She's small. That'll give us three and she's more expendable … you know, to make a point if we need to. If it's too crowded, we can throw her out."

"Yeah, good idea. Now next time," Oliver stopped speaking and Kara heard several emphatic whooshing noises.

 _Ouch, sounds like Oliver told off Munson using their sign language. Guess you're not supposed to say too much in front of the hostages – especially the ones you plan on killing. They might put up a fight if they know they're going to die anyway._

"I'm still taking my shield. At least until we get to the chopper," Royce announced.

"No. Take that one," Oliver ordered.

 _Who is he taking? Does that mean Munson is taking me? As soon as they let me up, and I can see where everyone is, I'm taking them out. I don't care if my secret identity is –"_

"Call 'em up," Royce said. "I'm chopping off this big mouth's hand if that copter ain't big enough to –"

" _PLEASE!"_ Kara infused as much pain as she could into her voice. "You have to understand. If … the helicopter is too big it can't … land here. That's why I said … Catco. It'll fit. I really am trying to … help."

"Yeah, why _are_ you trying to help us?" The suspicion in Royce's voice was back.

"Didn't mean I was … was trying to help you, not really. Said I'd cooperate if … stop hurting everyone else. Trying to help them," Kara heard some scuffles and waited for another kick, mildly surprised when it didn't come.

"Shit, Glasses, _you_ think you're some kind of hero? You ain't nothin'! I'm gonna kill whoever I want and Royce is gonna chop up whoever _he_ wants to. You ain't got no –"

"Munson! Watch the door, dammit! We're too close. This is gonna work." Oliver picked up the business phone, "Hey, police bitch, where's that copter? … I DON'T CARE IF THE FUCKING OWNER DOESN'T WANT TO GIVE IT UP! YOU'RE THE POLICE – TAKE IT! … You've got about five minutes to have that fucking thing here and ready to fly or someone here is gonna be short one arm. Got it?"

 _Cat's giving them a hard time about using the helicopter? Are the police using that line as a stall tactic? Rao! Don't play games with them!_

"You have to wait! Please! … I know the CEO – the owner – of the company. She can be … a real bitch. No one … messes with her. Really …," Kara faked a cough. _Now time to stroke their egos. Let them feel somehow they are in charge. Cool them down a little._ "No one but you guys …demanding she do something … she doesn't want to do."

" _Really?_ You expect me to believe that you're a new reporter but you and the owner of the company know each other. Ha! You're full of shit! You worthless –"

Kara cut Royce off, "I was … her assistant for a … few months. I transferred as soon as I …could. Before she could … fire me. You can … go ahead ask anyone who … knows her. I'm not lying."

"She's right …argh."

The male voice cut off abruptly after Kara heard a dull meaty thunk.

 _Was that John or Scott? Maybe it was the guy sitting with the girl._

"Nice job, dipshit," Oliver said sarcastically.

 _He sounds mad. Really mad. What happened? I wish I could see what's going on."_

The kitchen phone rang again. Oliver let it ring for a full minute before picking up the handset.

"Yeah. Where's my copter, bitch? … Fucking great." Oliver slammed the handset down, "It's on the way. Guess your boss thinks your ass is worth saving, Glasses. She bought you a few more minutes, anyway. You're –"

The sound of a helicopter reverberating off of buildings filled the kitchen. Kara, who heard it approach when the kitchen phone started ringing, winced at the noise.

 _This is it. As soon as I get up and see where everyone is I'll make my move. I'm out of options now._

"You! Glasses! _SLOWLY_ stand up and keep your fucking face turned away from me or this bitch gets a new hole in her ear. I MEAN IT! If I see that ponytail so much as bounce, I'll _do_ this bitch here and now. Understand? You want to keep her alive? You do _exactly_ what I say!"

 _Damn it! Why is he so adamant I don't see what's going on? He doesn't know who I am … what I can do. Crap! I tried to manage too early. Made him feel like he didn't have power over me. Now he's enjoying playing puppet master in front of everyone. Even when freedom is right out the front door waiting, he still has to prove he has all of the cards. That's the reason he is so fixated on controlling me. It must be how he keeps his reputation in prison. I have to get his mind off of me. Get up real slow. Don't give him any reason to hurt Danine._

"I … I know you've probably figured out … you need to keep the weight down … for the helicopter to … make it to the border without … refueling. The … the more weight in the helicopter the less likely you'll make it south of the border … unless you keep … the weight as light … as possible for the … the whole trip," Kara was finally standing.

" _YOU BITCH!"_ Munson yelled from across the kitchen. "You planned this all along! Do her now, Oliver!"

"Shut it, Munson. You see any cops out there or do we have a clear path to the copter?" Oliver asked. "You need to be our eyes. Keep on task. You can have fun with Glasses later. She was right, you know, about me already figuring all that copter stuff out. It's why I said we only needed her and the pilot – to keep the weight down. We don't want to refuel – at least not on this side of the border."

 _Perfect. That should get him off of my back. I know he didn't think about the weight issue before or he would have said something when Munson and Royce wanted to take their hostages. Now he looks like he's already thought everything out – I've given him back his position of power. As long as he doesn't realize I'm playing him this just may work out. Once we're up in the air they won't dare hurt the pilot and risk a crash. It'll be me versus those three. Bet I know who will win!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Supergirl is owned by Warner Bros. and DC Comics. Bad guys and cops are owned by me ... guess who's making all the money? Enjoy!**

Detectives Autumn Williams and Mike 'Big Man' Bailey suspected none of the three convicts were responsible for the Harding homicides. Theoretically it was possible, as all three were young hoodlums wreaking havoc in Gotham at the time, but the crime didn't fit the profile of any of the three at that point in their career. Detective Williams combed through the cold case file searching for any leads while Detective Bailey checked through whatever evidence was collected from the scene. They traveled to the state's maximum security prison and interviewed Denning, Munson, and Royce. The detectives felt uneasy. The cons used the exact same words to describe the crime and the timing, Denning was scheduled for transfer to another prison next month, was suspect. Yet all three had specific knowledge of the crime scene and it was enough for the Gotham D.A. to feel comfortable charging them. Four Gotham City police officers assigned to transport the prisoners paid the price in the desert a few miles east of National City.

"This is how we're gonna play this. Any of you mother fuckers, except for you, Glasses, so much as breathes wrong it's a bullet to the head. Glasses is our special ticket. So if she fucks up we'll shoot two hostages. Get it, Glasses? Two! Gut shots, so you get to hear them scream in pain before they die!" Oliver sounded confident, in charge, and fully committed to carrying out his threat.

"I understand," Kara answered standing still with her arms away from her sides. _Don't say anything else. He's on a roll now and if you interrupt he'll take it like you're trying to steal his power again. Listen and plan. Let him do the talking – no more pleading. If he gives the order to start shooting hostages I'll have to take my chances and see how many I can save. Right now I have to focus._

"Give one of those knives to Munson. Take an extra one for me. Yeah, the paring knife, in case I have to cut off little itty bitty parts when we're up in the copter. We can't do Glasses all at one time if we're gonna keep the pilot in line. Better scream, cry, and beg, Glasses. Make the pilot want to keep you in one piece for as long as possible cause I guarantee you'll regret it if you don't. I'll even make you a deal. I'll put a bullet in your head before we shove you out of the copter if the pilot is suitably concerned about your welfare."

 _He's really enjoying himself. Talking about torturing people, killing people, it isn't a threat with him. It gives him pleasure telling people what he's going to do to them. Sadistic son of a –_

Danine's cry filled the air.

"You answer me when I tell you something, Glasses, or I'll blow a hole in this bitch right now."

"Sor-sorry," Kara fake stuttered. _What the hell does he want me to say? I didn't hear him ask me any question. I'll reaffirm his dominance, maybe that's what he wants._ "I understand. I'll follow you're … orders."

"Damn right you will. Royce take those three. Leave the cripple there. He's no good to us anymore."

"Yeah, well I'm taking a couple of souvenirs from him first," Royce chuckled as a meaty thunk sound followed by John's cry filled the kitchen. "Hey, don't be upset there, cripple, now you got matching hands. Just you stay real still while I cut off your cute little pony tail. Wouldn't want the blade to slip and cut your fucking throat."

 _These guys belong on Fort Rozz – stuck in the phantom zone forever!_

"Okay, that was fun," Royce said after a few seconds. John's breathing was labored and he mewled in pain. "Now you, and you, get up. _DON'T_ turn around. Keep your arms straight out. Good. Nice and slow."

The kitchen phone rang again. Kara listened intently as Oliver picked it up after a minute.

"WHAT? Yeah – I know the fucking copter is outside. We'll come out when we're good and fucking ready to come out, police bitch. We ain't playing by your rules. You're playing by ours. Get it through your fucking head!"

The handset slammed back down as Danine cried out.

"Hah, they thought we were going to go running out like a bunch of new fish lining up for chow. I don't care what Glasses said about the snipers, either. We'll take our shields with her leading the way. Those two extra you got, Royce? You're the last one out with those two walking backward to cover our asses. If they start to run shoot them. Munson, how's it looking out there?"

"They're not moving around where I can see them. Can't hear anything over the damn copter."

"You're middle. I've got the front with Glasses leading the way. Listen up, Glasses," Oliver ordered. "The fate of all of these hostages is on _you_. If you fuck up we'll shoot them all – like I said before, don't make a difference if we die today. You lead to the copter. Once you're there stand on the side of the door. When Munson and Royce are on board you and I will get real cozy and join them. Got it?"

"Got it. Yes."

"We'll go out in another three or four minutes. Let them sweat a little. Get their heads thinking we're in here doing the hostages or we decided not to come out. Then we'll surprise 'em. I'll take right side, Munson you take the left side. Make sure we don't have any cops lined along the building when we get out. Royce, you keep those two shields _fucking tight_ on our asses," Oliver admonished.

The kitchen phone rang again. Oliver let it ring.

"Yeah. We got 'em worried now. Good. Give them a little head game," Oliver's satisfaction was evident.

 _He's getting cocky, now. Everything he said about what the cops are saying is true. Guess he's spent enough time in prison to know what the cops are going to do. I can hear them outside wondering what is going on in here. A few cops hidden by the entrance to Catco … no one hidden near Noonan's._

"Glasses, you're up. _Slowly_ keep stepping to your right. That's it, arms straight out from your sides unless you're going through a door."

 _Damn it! He's moving behind me with Danine. Sounds like he's about … five or six feet back. Oh, oh my, John, I'm so sorry I didn't help you! Concentrate, Kara, or you're gonna get someone killed. He's still alive … maybe the doctors can reattach some of his fingers … do your part right now. Get everyone to the helicopter safely so you can take care of business when the hostages aren't in danger._

"Hold it! Stop! Don't fucking move, Glasses."

Kara stopped in the doorway from the kitchen to the front of the restaurant. She thought Munson and his hostage were standing by the door to keep an eye out for the police.

 _He must have moved before I got here. Why are we stopping?_

Kara heard Oliver picked up the kitchen phone.

"We want three million in unmarked bills before we leave, police bitch. Keep that copter right where it is with the propellers going …I suspect it won't take more than … fifteen minutes for it to be delivered right in front of this place. We'll send a hostage out to retrieve it and make sure it's all there and it better all be there," Oliver slammed the handset down. "Okay, give them a minute to let the rest of the cops know, then we'll head out. They won't expect us."

 _He thinks he has all the angles covered. I'll show him the error of his ways as soon as the hostages are safe._

" _Move,_ Glasses!"

Kara walked slowly through the familiar coffee shop. She could hear Oliver and Danine still about five to six feet behind her. Another con and his shield, probably Munson and Mandy, following. She heard police commanders scrambling to implement a plan of action as the kitchen phone started to ring again.

"Don't pick it up, Royce," Oliver ordered. "Get your bodies and go."

Kara approached the front door and slowed down unsure of what Oliver wanted her to do.

"Get through the door, Glasses, _now!_ " Oliver yelled. "One more screw up and this bitch is dead, now go!

 _This is it!_

Kara opened the door and walked outside toward the waiting helicopter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Supergirl belongs to Warner Bros. and The CW. I own the cops, the hostages, and the bad guys. Hope you enjoy the ride!**

Officer Gary Reynolds flew helicopters in the army during the Gulf War. Afterward he joined the National City Police Department and, eventually, was assigned to the aviation unit. A short balding man with a bit of a paunch, he didn't look like a typical cop. Although he spent most of his shifts flying around National City, Officer Reynolds was also a member of the NCPD Entry Team and was near the command center when Denning made his demand for a helicopter. He immediately volunteered to pilot the craft then called his wife to let her know he would be late for dinner.

The sound of the rotors, bouncing off the surrounding buildings, was deafening. If Oliver was yelling orders a human would have had a hard time hearing them. As it was he was silent as they hurried themselves and their hostages toward the waiting helicopter.

 _Okay, at the door, now stand off to the side so they can enter. Not much room in there. Don't recognize the pilot. Oliver was right, probably a police officer … I can work with that._

Munson climbed in the helicopter sending Mandy sprawling to the ground next to Kara.

"DON'T FUCKING MOVE, BITCH. YOU STAY THERE OR I WILL SHOOT YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF! Munson yelled from the doorway.

Kara could see his gun pointed at Mandy, another smaller pistol, was touching the back of the pilot's head. Mandy stayed where Munson tossed her covering her head with her arms. Kara heard heavy breathing as Royce approached.

"YOU TWO MOTHERFUCKERS DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW! OVER THERE NEXT TO THAT ONE. GET DOWN NOW OR I'LL BLOW YOU AWAY! DON'T FUCKING MOVE, ASSHOLES!" Royce was next to Kara, the woman from the front booth still held tight in his arm. "WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOKING AT, GLASSES? TURN YOUR HEAD THE OTHER WAY OR I'LL WASTE HER RIGHT NOW!"

Kara heard a yelp then a cry of pain as Royce flung the woman onto the ground next to the other hostages and clambered onto the aircraft. _Two on board. One more and then –_

"GLASSES! PUT YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEAD!

Kara did as Oliver ordered then felt his left arm circle her torso as Danine was tossed to the ground near the rest of the hostages. Oliver deliberately grabbed her right breast and squeezed hard as he dragged her toward the opening of the copter.

 _Oh, really? You despicable excuse for a human being._ It was all she could do to hold herself in check knowing the hostages and the pilot were still in danger.

"FEELS GOOD DOESN'T IT, GLASSES? I OWN YOUR ASS!" Oliver yelled as he maneuvered them both into the helicopter.

The space was tight with Kara sandwiched in between Oliver and Royce. Munson was in the co-pilot's seat, his gun barrel making an indentation in the pilot's temple. Oliver shut the door and the rotor noise muted to bearable.

"Turn on that police radio. Now!" Munson ordered.

The pilot, obviously unfamiliar with the layout of the cockpit, hesitated then reached toward Munson to flip several switches.

"You make one more move like that and I'll shoot one of the hostages outside, asshole!" Oliver threatened. "Get this thing up in the air. If you do anything I don't like this bitch loses a piece of her anatomy. Better beg him, Glasses, or you're gonna wish you did!"

Oliver had a small paring knife in his right hand and brought it up underneath Kara's chin. _This is it. Time to – no!_

The helicopter rose steadily from the ground. Tall buildings, occupied with employees staring out the windows, surrounded the craft on both sides. Oliver took the knife away from Kara's face.

"Looks like he doesn't want to see you bleed yet, Glasses," Oliver tapped Munson on the shoulder, "Put on the earphones. Listen to the radio traffic."

Munson all but ripped the headphones off of the pilot's head, "You don't need these fucking things to fly. You have a compass? Head toward Gotham. S'all you need to know. You fuck up and it gets real messy for the bitch back there. Understand?"

The pilot nodded and concentrated on the instrument panel in front of him. The helicopter was almost clear of the buildings when Royce yelled at the pilot, "Hey, turn this thing around. I wanna see if I can hit the bodies from here!"

The pilot turned to Munson, as if asking his permission.

"WHAT THE FUCK, ASSHOLE, I _TOLD_ YOU TO TURN THIS THING AROUND. YOU DON'T QUESTION WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO!" Royce slapped the pilot on the back of the head. "NOW DO IT!"

The pilot slowly turned the helicopter so Royce's side was facing the hostages still laying prone in the street. The helicopter was seven or eight stories above them.

Royce tapped on the door's window with the barrel of his handgun, "Hey, wanna make a bet how many I can hit from here? Even shooting through the glass I bet I'll get at least two or three."

Kara shook her head not believing the stupidity she was hearing.

 _They have everything they want, hostages, a way to escape, and they still want to hurt people._

"Better not." Kara warned. _I don't want to take these guys out now if I can help it. If the pilot loses control, the helicopter could accidentally careen into one of the buildings. I'd rather wait until we're over the desert if they don't do endanger anyone else._

"Who asked for your opinion, Glasses? Oliver – why don't you keep her busy? I wanna piece too so don't wear her out."

"Listen, Dammit! You can't shoot through the window! It'll mess up the aerodynamics of the helicopter. The pilot won't be able to control it and we'll end up in one of the buildings," Kara lied gambling none of the convicts knew anything about aviation. "Ask the pilot."

Royce turned and pointed his gun in Kara's face, "I've had enough of you."

"ROYCE! STOP!" Oliver reached across Kara and grabbed the gun barrel. "CONCENTRATE! Let's take care of business first. You. Pilot. Is this bitch telling the truth or is she full of shit?"

"She's right. It'll mess up the pressure and I won't be able to pull us out of a tailspin. We'll crash," the pilot lied convincingly.

 _Great! Thank you, mister pilot. Now get us out of the city so I –_

"I think they're both full of shit, Oliver. We can't trust 'em," Royce said.

"Listen up, _pilot_. This bitch is walking dead right now. She knows it. If you do as you're told, you'll get out of this alive. I'll even sweeten the pot by not making you watch us cut her up. You fuck us over, fine, we all die … some more painfully than others. Yours will be painful and long. You got kids at home? A girlfriend? You wanna see them tomorrow? You do what we say _today_! Got it?" Oliver brokered.

"I'm not going to give you any problems. Just … leave the girl alone. I'll fly you to Gotham," the pilot replied over his shoulder.

Oliver sat back and chuckled, his arm around Kara tightening, "Hear that, Glasses? He _cares_ about what happens to you. Royce?"

"On it," Royce said as he practically sat on Kara's lap and grabbed the pilot's neck with one hand as he brandished a knife in the other. "Where's your gun, copper. _Don't_ even think about moving your hands from the controls. I'll slit your throat and watch you bleed out before we die, motherfucker."

"I'm not a cop," the man wheezed.

"Listen, asshole, last time. _Where's_ the gun?"

"I got it," Munson said as he reached between the pilot and the seat. He pulled out a semi-auto handgun. "This'll make a nice addition to my growing collection of police guns. Asshole cops. You think we didn't figure out you're a cop?"

"Hey, copper. The offer still stands," Oliver assured. "You get us out of here, no trouble, and you get to live. Otherwise we're all dead."

Kara tensed waiting for the pilot's response. _Please, don't be a hero right now! Do as they say and I'll get us out of this mess. Let them settle down, relax their guard a bit, and I'll take them out._

"I'll cooperate," he wheezed out.

"Royce." Oliver said.

Royce gave the pilot's neck one more squeeze then sat back, deliberately elbowing Kara in the jaw as he did so. She feigned pain as she absorbed the blow.

 _Leave it, Kara. A few more minutes and you'll deliver these men to the authorities. Although, if Oliver doesn't stop with the wandering hand routine, he may end up with a few broken fingers. Okay, over the desert now. As soon as Munson drops his guard on the pilot I'll make my move._

"So tell me, Glasses. You said you were on your way to Gotham to write a story about us. That we were 'famous'. Let's hear it. What were you going to write?" Oliver grabbed Kara's hair and pulled _hard._

Kara let her head be pulled back by Oliver's grip. _Crap. I was hoping they forgot I said that. I don't want them paying attention to me._

"Yeah," Royce added. "How are we supposed to be famous and don't give me we have some cult following!"

"It's your connection to the crime. The murder of the family, the missing three-year-old, still resonates, uh … interests, people," Kara said then smiled inwardly as she came up with a plan to save her identity while stopping the cons. "My boss wants to bring in higher numbers and believed covering the story from a personal angle could do that. He wanted me to interview each of you, you know, get your side of the story. Your attorneys agreed to the interviews."

"Yeah?" Royce asked. "So how does that make us famous? You didn't even talk to us yet. You didn't write nuthin' yet. You're just lying, Glasses."

" _I_ haven't written anything yet but loads of other newspapers and television news crews have talked to the warden about you guys. My boss wanted me to talk to you directly about the crimes without using the warden as a filter. Apparently no one else wanted to interview you guys after the warden said he couldn't guarantee any reporter's safety during the interview," Kara explained.

"Huh," was Royce's only comment.

"Yeah, I wish I would have listened to him. Instead I did what my boss told me to do and got the okay to do the interviews in Gotham. Like I said before, I stopped at that coffee shop on the way to the airport otherwise I'd still be safe at work."

"Really? So what kinda shit were you gonna to ask us?" Oliver tugged the fistful of hair he still had.

"Mostly background things. I mean anyone can read all the police reports of your crimes. My boss wanted me to find out the reasons _why_ you did what you did. Why did you kill the Harding family and what ever happened to Jesse?" Kara asked. _Go into full journalist/interview mode. Keep them talking until the pilot sets this thing on the ground if you can._

"We don't gotta tell you nothing, Glasses," Oliver answered. "You ain't living to write no story so it really doesn't matter."

"I guess they were right, then, about you guys not really doing the crime. Using it as a way of escaping prison," Kara goaded.

Oliver threw her head forward as he let go of her hair. She stayed doubled over until Oliver pulled her upright by the collar of her blouse.

 _Let it go. Munson's still got his gun screwed into the pilot's ear. You can deal with Oliver's bullying if it means no one else gets hurt._

"Yeah. So what? It worked," Royce rejoined the conversation.

" _How_ though? I mean, according to what I heard, you guys told the detectives some stuff that only the killers could know about. How did you know all of that?" Kara asked.

"There was a new fish from Gotham who thought he and I could be friends because, you know, we were from the same city," Oliver chuckled. "I told him to prove his worth and he told me he and his friend did the family. I made him give me the details … Royce helped."

Oliver nodded at Royce.

 _Keep them talking. Can't be too long now before we reach Gotham._

"So I take it this guy didn't want to say anything when you took credit for his crime," Kara observed.

"He ain't around to say anything," Royce admitted. "I did a year in solitary after I finished with him. No big deal. Sick bastard actually told me he _enjoyed_ doing the kid. You shoulda heard him squeal when I cut off his dick! Remember, Oliver?"

A ghost of a smile graced Oliver's lips, "Yeah, good times."

"You mean you killed him because of what he did to the child?" Kara didn't _really_ want to hear anything else. Gotham couldn't be _that_ far away.

"Nah, he was gonna die anyway. Wouldn't give up his running buddy's name. Oliver doesn't like people who keep secrets," Royce shrugged.

 _Yeah, well he's really not going to like me. Can't say the feeling isn't mutual on my part either. Time to sow a little discord. See how tight they really are._

"So Oliver is in charge, right? I mean he gives the orders and you two follow them."

Kara wasn't expecting the gut punch from Oliver and hastily relaxed her body. He looked surprised as he drew back his fist. He didn't say anything.

 _Yeah, I bet that hurt! Not going to let your friends know you hurt your hand punching a girl, are you? Hope you broke it!_

"No one's in charge of me," Royce countered. "I do what I want. We all do."

"Sorry," Kara huffed out pretending to be out of breath from the blow. "Just thought … he's the one, in the coffee shop … gave the orders and talked to the cops. Figured he … was the boss. My mistake."

"You don't get any more mistakes, Glasses," Royce's voice was quiet. "Which finger do you want to lose first?"

"Hey, why don't you cut out her tongue?" Oliver suggested.

"Too dangerous. She might bleed out. The finger's better. Give me your hand –"

"We're almost to Gotham," the pilot called out. "Where do you want me to set this down at?"

Oliver cocked an eyebrow at Royce who licked his lips and pulled back from Kara to look out of the window.

 _Nice timing. Royce is on the spot now. Things change a lot in a couple of decades and neither Oliver nor Munson will believe him if he doesn't come up with the cash._

"Go west of town. About fifteen miles west of Abbot Road. There's a large tire factory," Royce instructed as he scanned the area.

No one spoke for several minutes as the helicopter made its way to the site. The tire factory, long since abandoned, was deserted.

"Hey guys, the Gotham Police were notified we were last seen heading toward Gotham," Munson called back. "I don't know how long we're going to have once we set down."

"Royce?" Oliver questioned.

"Not much. Take about five minutes or so."

"Good. It'll take the cops at least that long to drive out from Gotham," Oliver nodded.

"Right there! Set this thing down next to that funny looking building!" Royce pointed at the building.

 _Time to get ready. Good, everyone is looking out of their windows. Now for a little x-ray vision … yes! I figured the pilot had more than one gun. Okay, setting down … show time!_

Kara, using a touch of super speed reached forward and grabbed the gun Munson was pointing at the pilot making sure to cuff Munson in the head hard enough to disorient him. As Oliver turned away from the window, she grabbed the gun from his hand then brought her arm up hitting his chin hard with her forearm. His eyes rolled back and he slumped, unconscious. Royce, was still looking out the window as Kara stripped of the knife out of his hand and banged his head off of the bulkhead. Royce slumped against the door. The pilot grabbed his hidden semi-auto and pointed it at Munson who was still dazed.

"Don't move, motherfucker, or you'll have a third eye," the pilot ordered Munson. "You all set back there, ma'am?"

"Yeah, for the moment. Can we get out of this thing? I don't know how long they are going to be out and _I'd_ prefer not having to shoot anyone," Kara answered.

"Just reach over and unlatch the door. Push the ugly one out … wait, search him first. Take all of his weapons. He's probably got at least a couple of knives and another gun. Be thorough, we don't want any surprises before Gotham's finest arrives," the pilot said as he shut off power to the rotors.

"Okay, being thorough," Kara answered using her x-ray vision to check Royce out for more weapons.

She liberated two more knives a gun and four full magazines from Royce before turning to Oliver and performing the same task. She carefully handed them to the pilot before opening up the door and 'assisted' Royce to the ground as she hopped out. Once he was laid flat on his stomach she reached in and slowly dragged Oliver across the seat acting as if it took great effort. He was dumped on the ground next to Royce.

"Do you have anything to tie them up with?" Kara looked at the pilot.

"No. Move to the front of the helicopter. I'm going to have this one get out and join his friends on the ground," the pilot instructed Kara then motioned to Munson, "Get out slowly. Lay face down on the ground next to your friends. Keep your arms away from your sides. If you try and run I _will_ shoot you."

Kara moved to the front of the helicopter and watched Munson exit the craft. The pilot followed him, gun never wavering from Munson's chest. _Definitely a police officer. He wants me out of the way in case he has to shoot. Munson better not try anything –_

"On the ground. Now!" the pilot ordered.

Munson started to go to his knees then leaped toward Kara as the pilot unleashed several rounds at the convict. Munson fell on the ground, moaning, at Kara's feet.

"Ohmygosh!" she exclaimed as she bent down to check his injuries.

"Get away from him!" yelled the pilot as she started to turn him over.

" _YOU_ _BITCH!_ This is all your fault!"

Munson thrust a carving knife at Kara's torso as she twisted to avoid it. The knife sliced through her blouse and Munson grunted as the blade abruptly stopped causing his hand to slide forward from the handle and almost severing his fingers as they slid across the sharp blade. Kara stumbled backward as the pilot kicked the knife from Munson's hand.

"How bad did he get you? Are you –"

"I'm … I'm all right. He just got my blouse. See? No blood."

"You were awfully lucky. I could have sworn he got you."

"Nope. Nope. Must be my lucky day," she smiled at him then sobered as she looked at Munson and backed away deliberately stepping on the knife blade until it flattened under her foot. "I think … I think he might have more weapons."

Munson moaned, appearing barely conscious, as the pilot nodded, "I'll cover him if you retrieve them. Can you do that? Just kick his arms away from his body. If he makes a move get out of the way cause I'm not going to let him hurt anyone else. Okay?"

Kara nodded and approached Munson.

"You heard what he said. Lie still and we'll get you to a hospital," Kara knelt down as she used her x-ray vision. She removed three guns from Munson's waistband and pockets and put the guns in the helicopter with the rest of the recovered weapons.

"Can you operate the radio in the chopper? Get us some back up? Let'em know where we're at and to send medical assistance for that one. Tell'em Mike Reynolds from National City Police is on scene. Oh, and hey, those were some awesome moves you used. You a black belt in karate or something?"

"My big sister Alex... she … taught me some stuff, you know, woman's self-defense stuff. She's always looking out for me."


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone, thanks for sticking with me, had some computer issues. Quick note ... Kara did work as a waitress at Noonan's from 2010 until 2013 according to her resume (2.01 The Adventures of Supergirl). Reviews are very much welcome!  
**

Royce will never spend the three million six hundred and fifty thousand dollars stolen all those years ago. Detectives located the money hidden under one of the out buildings at an abandoned tire factory his father worked at. Royce and Oliver didn't have anything to say as they were arrested. Munson died of his wounds shortly after he arrived at Gotham General Hospital. Charges against the three convicts in connection to the Harding murders were dismissed after sources reported the convicts boasted they lied about their involvement in an escape attempt.

Kara, fresh from a police interview and writing out a statement, was met at the front steps of National City Police Department Headquarters by James and Winn. Both looked grim. No one said anything until they were safely inside James' car.

"You want to talk about what happened? I mean, are you okay? Did you blow out your powers or something?" James asked making no attempt to start the engine.

"Yeah, Kara, I understand about not wanting to tell people who you are and everything but how could you just let them chop off John's fingers like that?" Winn asked from the backseat.

"Guys, no. I'm okay … I mean I didn't blow out my powers or anything like that. These bad guys … they, uh, … they didn't give me a chance to help John." _Rao,_ _why is Winn looking at me like I did it?_ "I tried to help – to stop what they were doing to John but –"

"What do you mean you tried? How hard could it have been, Kara? You can stop bullets, you have super speed, I mean, it was _John –_ not some nameless person you didn't know," Winn demanded.

"Hey, buddy, enough!" James broke in. "I'm sure Kara has her reasons. Let's get back to Catco. Ms. Grant wants to see you."

"Yeah, sure," Kara swallowed the lump in her throat and managed to hold her tears in check. _He's right. I should have figured something out sooner._ Kara spent the rest of the short trip reliving the event.

"She's in her office, waiting," James said as he parked his car in front of Catco. "Go on. I'll park the car. Winn and I need to … talk. We'll be up in a few minutes."

Kara exited the car looking around at the once familiar entrance to Noonan's. Crime scene tape, police officers, and police vehicles still decorated the area. A couple of civilians Kara recognized as stringers for other news organizations were peppering the cops with questions that mostly went unanswered.

"Hey, you! You were one of the hostages, right? Can I get an interview?"

 _Oh, not in a million years!_

Kara rushed into Catco looking briefly over her shoulder at the reporters who started after her.

"Hi, Ronald," she greeted the man at the security desk. "Could you please make sure –".

"Hey, Kara, glad to see you're okay! We were all worried about you," Ronald smiled then frowned when he saw the hospital scrub style shirt she was wearing. "Why are you wearing that?"

"I'm sorry, Ronald, I can't talk right now," Kara glanced over her shoulder again. "Ms. Grant wants to see me and … those reporters outside? Ms. Grant doesn't want me to talk to anyone. I'm sure she's expecting an exclusive."

"Right on it, Kara," Ronald said as he stood up and put his security hat on. "I'll go out and let them know they'll have to find someone else to harass."

"Thanks," Kara headed for the main elevators wishing the National City Police hadn't confiscated her torn shirt as evidence after the interview. The prisoner shirt they gave her to wear, inside out, looked conspicuously out of place and garnered more attention than she wanted.

Kara fielded variations of "Kara! Are you okay?" during the trip to Cat's office. _Am I okay? I wasn't the one who was chopped up. I wasn't the one who was hit over and over. I wasn't the one who had a gun screwed into my ear – knowing at any second someone could pull the trigger and kill me. I wasn't the …_

"This is your floor, right? Going to see Ms. Grant?" Elizabeth asked as the elevator stopped.

"Yes, yes, it is. I'm going to see Ms. Grant," Kara confirmed and nodded to Elizabeth as she exited the lift. _Come on, Kara. Snap out of it. Take a deep breath and –_

"Kiera! My office, _now_!"

 _Crap, not her 'having a good day' tone._

"Yes, Ms. Grant?" Kara responded as she walked into the office.

"Close the door and _sit._ "

 _Oh, boy. Definitely not having a good day. Guess that makes two of us._

Cat stood near her desk as Kara sat on the sofa and asked, "James said you wanted to see me, Ms. Grant?"

"What the hell happened? When Mr. Schott told me you were among the hostages, I called Chief Thomas and used up a lot of good will to get his people to back off – to give you time to get things under control. The next thing I know the police are commandeering my helicopter, the other hostages severely beat up – one of them lost most of his fingers, and Supergirl is notably absent," Cat spat out then glanced to the bullpen. No one was looking in their direction.

"I _tried_. I wanted to help so badly …" Kara fidgeted with glasses. "You weren't there … at first, when those guys came in, they took everyone – including me, by surprise. They had guns to the heads of the two people sitting by the front door before I could turn around. Those people would have died if I hadn't gone along with their directions like everyone else in there. I … I tried to think of a way to stop them but these guys were … professional. They had us crawl into the kitchens on our stomachs then ordered us to look away from them. I would have, you know, but I couldn't see where they were and they each had a hostage."

"So you're saying you think they would have killed at least one of the hostages before … before Supergirl arrived?" Cat's voice sounded a little less strident.

"I _know_ at least one of the hostages would have died. That's why I was playing for time … I figured they'd make a mistake and Supergirl could … help. When they started hurting John, because he said something about Supergirl stopping them, it was all I could do _not_ to move. Hell, they didn't even know who Supergirl was so it wasn't much of a threat to them but they still … hurt him. They _liked_ hurting him … hurting people."

"And you felt you had to let them do that because to save someone else from being killed?" Cat's eyes became a little softer. "Better to let one person get hurt than have someone killed?"

"Something like that, yes." Kara looked down at her hands then back up at Cat with a wan smile, "I couldn't think of a way to make them stop … until I started thinking about what you would do."

"Do tell," Cat's eyebrow arched.

"I directed their attention to me. I started talking to them. Told them I was a reporter and I wanted to interview them. It sort of worked – at least they stopped from chopping off John's entire hand."

"I take it the interview didn't go well?" Cat added dryly.

"Wasn't much of an interview … more like trying to figure out what to say to make them stop hurting the other people."

"And it worked?"

"Sometimes … at least they focused on trying to hurt me sometimes instead of anyone else. The one guy, Munson, broke his toes when he kicked me."

"Serves him right. Is that what happened to your glasses?"

"No. That happened before – when I tried to look at them – find out where they were. One of the guys fired a shot into the floor next to my face then said … it was the last warning shot. They'd kill the next person who moved," Kara fought the urge to readjust her glasses. "I don't doubt they would have, either. They were getting ready to shoot all of the hostages when the police were about to storm the restaurant. Then the cops pulled back and I started telling them about using a helicopter instead of the police tactical tank to escape."

"Because …?" Cat prodded.

"The tank was too big. They were going to take the others with them so I told them about your helicopter – cause it's small. They couldn't take more than one person," Kara explained.

"And how did you convince them to take you? Some kind of mental telepathy I don't know about?"

"I sort of, um, told them I was _really_ important and the cops didn't want me hurt. I figured if they could only take one hostage they would choose me." Kara added, "Thanks, by the way, it wouldn't have worked if you hadn't told the chief I was some kind of great reporter who could talk her way out of anything. The police negotiator told Oliver, he was the leader, I was the reason why they didn't come in."

"So you weren't letting people get hurt – maimed – to protect … Supergirl like Mr. Schott said," Cat reasoned nodding to herself.

"Winn said that?" Kara's voice rose an octave. "No, no, absolutely not! How could he –"

"Inside voice, Keira." Cat warned then went on, "Apparently, he and the man who was seriously injured are gaming buddies or something like that. He was … upset after we found out the condition of the hostages and started piecing things together. I overheard he and Mr. Olsen discussing the matter. Oh, and remind me to have a chat with them both about the meaning of discreet."

"I've known John for years. He was at Noonan's when I worked there as a waitress. I had to … make a choice," Kara's voice dropped and she lowered her gaze. "I've gone over everything a million times and … I'd make the same choice again."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I'm not sure what else you could have done either," Cat admitted. "All of the hostages survived and, from what the police are saying, you are the reason. So … nice save, Kara."

"Yeah, thanks, it … it doesn't feel much like … other times," Kara admitted. "Ms. Grant? Would it be all right if I went down to National City General and checked up on John?"

"Go, go." Cat made a shoeing motion with her hand then called out, as Kara reached the office door, "Remember, you are mine. No interviews … and Snapper expects a short synopsis on his desk by six. He'll have someone else write the article."

"Thanks, Ms. Grant," Kara smiled for the first time since she walked into Noonan's.

Hours Kara dropped off a manila envelope on her boss' desk and turned to leave the office.

"You look like hell, ponytail," Snapper observed.

 _Please, not today._

"The background stuff is in there, with sources," Kara explained defensively. "I was told someone else was going to write up the article. I can write it if you want me to."

 _Please say no._

"No. Raymond has worked this all day and, for some reason, Cat Grant wants us to leave you out of this as much as possible so no features or anything like that. Got it?" Snapper spared a glance at her.

"Yes, I'm okay with that."

 _Thank you, Cat!_

"I didn't _ask_ you if you were okay with it. I'm telling you what's going to happen," Snapper sounded annoyed, "Now get out of here. Ray will call if he has any questions."

Kara nodded and walked out of the newsroom.

 _I'd better not stop at the hospital again. I barely got out of there last time without the reporters seeing me. At least Alex is coming over for sister night._

"Kara sit down," Alex said as Kara stood by her window looking in the direction of National City General. "I talked to Winn. He said he'd call me with an update when John gets out of surgery. He said he was sorry, too. Why would he be sorry?"

Kara shook her head, "I don't want to talk about this right now. Can't we watch television and forget today ever happened?"

Alex cocked her head, "You know, you're right. Grab the ice cream and we'll catch up on 'Game of Thrones'.

 _Good. Mindless entertainment. Maybe that will help. Aw, crap, I forgot to pick up more ice cream._

"Here you go Alex," Kara said as she handed Alex a pint of ice cream and a spoon.

"Where's yours?"

"I forgot to pick some up today, you know, kind of busy," Kara answered.

"Sure, well get a spoon. We'll share," Alex smiled.

"No. I'm not I the mood for ice cream right now, anyway," Kara said glancing at the window again.

" _You're_ not in the mood for ice cream. _Really?"_ Alex gave Kara a long look then put the ice cream down on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around her sister. "It isn't easy, is it? Making the tough decisions."

"How? What?" Kara turned toward Alex.

"I read all of the preliminary police reports what the hostages had to say. I even read your witness statement."

"How did you... oh, Detective Sawyer let you, right?"

"Yeah. The NCPD negotiators were very impressed the way you were able to keep those assholes from killing anyone. You saved those people, Kar. You made the right choices even if someone got hurt."

"It still doesn't make it easier. I'll never forget the sound of them hurting John. Alex, it was terrible, I wanted to stop those guys but I didn't know where they were. They kept moving around and they wouldn't let me look at them and they had guns to people's heads and –"

"And you had to make a choice, let them hurt John or kill another person," Alex interrupted hugging her sister tight. "Shhh, now. John getting wounded was _not_ your fault. The guys that took you hostage, they weren't amateurs. They took a gamble to try and escape because they had nothing to lose … they really didn't care if they died as long as they could take out as many people as possible when they did. Thanks to Kara, not Supergirl, no one at Noonan's died."

The two sisters sat together long into the night.

 **Supergirl is owned by Warner Bros. and DC Comics. I own the bad guys and the cops.**


End file.
